


warm

by babylupin



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: ! - Freeform, !!, Boys Kissing, I want to add more tags, I'm tired, M/M, Please be nice, SnowBaz, THIS FIC!, and i'm writing fucking TAGS, are so short, but i don't know what else to say, feeds!, going to go to sleep now, i apologise if it annoys you, it's deadass midnight, kings of the softies, suck it homophobes, the fluffiest, the gays!, the sentences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 18:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylupin/pseuds/babylupin
Summary: this is the first snowbaz i've ever written so forgive me if it's a little dull :/ please leave comments & kudos <3





	warm

**BAZ**

It’s bad enough that Simon Snow can’t cast a spell to save his life - sometimes _literally_ \- but he’s always got his blade. At least, he’s _usually_ always got his blade.

“Where the fuck is it, Snow?” I demand after sending a ribbon of fire streaming towards the crowd of gremlins that were getting closer and closer to us. Nasty little buggers, gremlins. They’re absolutely filthy; pretty much _dripping_ in the weird green saliva they spit out _constantly._  I don’t know if it’s poisonous, but I’m careful not to let it touch me. Fucking Snow’s focusing so hard on trying to summon his sword that he nearly gets hit by a sudden squirt of it from the mass moving towards us.

“Snow!” I yell, almost knocking him over as I push him out of the way.

He yelps as he stumbles backwards, then scowls at me. “I nearly had it!”

“Hurry up.” I snarl, readying my wand to fight.

“A third of them would be dead by now if you hadn’t rammed into me!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Snow. Next time you’re about to get hit with that green shit, I’ll watch it happen!”

I can tell that he doesn’t know how to respond. Which means I’ve won. For now, at least. I watch with a smirk as he moves his hand back over his hip and starts muttering the incantation again. I whirl around and send a perfectly aimed curse spiralling into the crowd, knocking out at least six of the gremlins. I don’t know if I’ve killed them. All I know is that they’re not trying to kill _me_ any more.

“Fuck yes!” Snow shouts triumphantly from behind me, and I turn to see him grinning at me, sword in hand. I can’t help but grin back at him. He’s so handsome when he smiles. No, he’s so handsome _all the time_ , but even more so when he’s smiling. I always smile when he smiles.

He runs at the crowd and starts slashing around with his sword, knocking the heads off any gremlin who thought they could take him on. Crowley, he’s so powerful. If he could actually do magic, he’d be unstoppable. Right now, he’s just a boy with a sword. I cast a protection spell on him.

The fight goes on, and we’re obviously winning. The thing with gremlins is that, although they’re quite feisty, they’re weak. Other than the green spitting thing, they can’t do much, and the spit can be avoided with ease. Their skin’s not even that tough; I can see Simon slicing right through it as if it were the butter he piles onto his scones.

When there are only a handful of gremlins left, Snow trips over and falls flat on his back. I move to help him, but he gives me a look that I _know_ means that I get to finish them off. I grin and mutter the spell, sending the ugly, knobbly creatures into thin air. I wish **Into thin air!** worked with crowds of things, because it would have been a hell of a lot easier to get rid of them all if it did.

“Thanks,” Snow pants as I pull him to his feet. I smile at the rosy tint in his cheeks.

 

**SIMON**

The Insidious Humdrum is fucking _relentless_. A entire swarm of gremlins right on the Great Lawn like they were there for some communal fucking picnic. It was torture trying to get everyone to go inside. Baz refused. He stayed and fought. Admirably, too.

I don’t know where me and Baz lie at the moment. Three months ago, it was the same as ever: disagreeing on absolutely everything and trying-but-not-really-trying to kill each other. If it weren’t for the anathema, I reckon he’d have smothered me with a pillow in first year. But now, we’re … I don’t even know.

He’s still sarcastic and arrogant, but there’s something different about him. I can’t place what it is, but he’s being a lot less of a dick than he’s always been. A pleasant change, I have to say.

As he helps me up, I feel myself blush. Why am I blushing? _It’s hot,_ I tell myself. _You’re exhausted after fighting off those gremlins. You’re just warm._

I look up and see Baz smiling at me. It isn’t a sneer or a grimace. It’s a genuine smile. It’s quite nice, too, so I smile back, and then we laugh.

“It’s a shame you’re so shit at casting spells,” Baz says to me as we walk back up the Lawn.

“Good thing I’m so handy with a sword!” I say back, and he grins at me sideways. He has perfect teeth. Of fucking course.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he asks.

I shrug. “Shower. Sleep. Eat.”

“In that order?”

I shrug again. “Probably not. Are you hungry now?”

He shakes his head. “Not particularly. Don’t we need to go - I don’t know - talk to the Mage or something?”

“Fuck the Mage. Fat lot of good he was in that fight.”

“Be careful, Snow, he might hear you!” Baz teases, and I roll my eyes at him. We walk side-by-side up to our room in Mummers House, and I collapse onto my bed.

“Well done today,” Baz says to me as he undoes his tie. His black hair looks neat as ever. Mine is plastered to my forehead with sweat. Merlin, it’s like he didn’t even fight.

“Thanks,” I reply, sitting up. He’s being so uncharacteristically nice to me. What does he have to gain? “You too. I don’t think I’d have killed even half of those gremlins before they got me if you hadn’t been there.”

He smiles again. His smile - when it’s sincere, like this - makes him look so handsome. He’s Baz Pitch; he’s always handsome. The smile just adds to it. When he sneers at people, it takes away from his good looks.

“You look good when you smile,” I find myself saying. I didn’t even process the words coming out of my mouth until they were gone. I blush furiously and look at the floor.

“I what?” I can _hear_ the smirk in Baz’s voice as he speaks. I glance up and immediately look away again. Smug prick.

“Simon,” he says. He never calls me Simon. Always Snow. “What did you say?”

I roll my eyes. “You _know_ what I said. You’re just doing this to spite me.”

“Maybe.” He takes a step towards me, still smirking. The corners of his mouth do this sort of cinching thing when he smirks. I think it gives his face more depth. Not that he needs it.

 

**BAZ**

He said I look nice when I smile. I can feel my heart hammering against my ribs but I don’t care. I want to hear him say it again. To my face. And I want to say it back to him. And I want him to know how beautiful he is. (And how much it drives me crazy. So crazy that some days I just want to grab him by the sides of his slender face and kiss him until my lips hurt. Other days I want to bite his neck and suck him dry. As much as I adore him, he can be _very_ infuriating at times.

“Snow.” I say, so quietly it’s barely even a whisper. He stands up and raises his head slightly to look me in the eyes. I love that I’m taller than him. I’ll bet it really annoys him.

“Baz.” He says back. His blue eyes are moving frantically, and I wish I could reach out and steady them. But that’d be a bit weird.

All of this is extremely romantic, which is ironic, seeing as he’ll probably call me a prick in a second and take over the bathroom. Then he’ll fuck off with Bunce and bitch about me. See if I care.

And then he takes a step towards me. And I can almost _taste_ my heartbeat.

 

**SIMON**

If someone asked me to write down my thought process for this moment, I wouldn’t be able to. My mind is both full of countless thoughts and completely blank. I don’t even register what I’m doing.

Baz steps closer to me still. There’s so little space between us now, I can feel his breath on my cheek. You would think that vampires don’t need to breathe, but I’ve listened to Baz breathing at night for the last six years. I’ve watched his chest rise and fall as he inhales and exhales. I watch it now, and then look back at him. And he moves ever closer...

 

**BAZ**

_What am I doing?_ I should move away; I try to, but something in my brain seems to have clicked so that the only way I can move is _towards_ him. I do.

 

**SIMON**

I _really_ don’t know what I’m doing. I stare at Baz’s lips: grey and cold-looking. Yet plump and full of life. In this moment, I don’t care that he’s (probably) a vampire. I don’t care that me and Agatha have this sort of unspoken thing going on. In this moment, all I care about is _him_.

 

**BAZ**

Before I can stop myself, I’m leaning down ever so slightly, and he’s moving up; towards me. Our lips meet somewhere in between, and it’s better than any of the daydreams I’ve had.

I haven’t kissed anyone before. I _think_ Snow’s kissed Wellbelove, but I couldn’t know for sure. Anyway, this seems to be going well. I’m enjoying it, at least. But I think I’d enjoy it even if it was a god awful kiss. If I’m kissing Simon Snow, I think I’m happy with anything.

 

**SIMON**

And then we’re kissing. Actually kissing. Snogging. I can feel his lips against my lips. I open my mouth slightly and it gets even better. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but it’s nice. It’s really nice. It’s _everything_. And then some. I’ve only kissed Agatha before this, and it was just the once. This is _infinitely_ better.

 

**BAZ**

He’s the one to pull away. Obviously. If I had my say, I’d kiss him forever.

He looks at me once we’ve parted, and his cheeks are slightly pink. I reach up with my right hand and brush his bronze curls away from his forehead. He doesn’t protest, but instead closes his hand around mine. I bring it to my lips and kiss it gently. He’s so warm. I live for him.

 

**SIMON**

When he kisses my hand, I flip my shit. Mentally, anyway. On the outside, I remain calm and collected. I want to kiss him again. I lean forwards and seal the gap between us.

 

**BAZ**

Aleister Crowley, this is absolutely wonderful. _This_ is magic. Snogging Simon Snow. _Twice_.

He moves his hand into my hair, and slips his fingers in between the locks, tugging ever so slightly. I push into the kiss, and he reacts well, putting his free hand on my neck and pulling me closer. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I put them on his cheeks. He’s so _warm_. I never want to let him go.

 

**SIMON**

I thought the fact that I’m kissing a boy would bother me. I don’t know why. But it doesn’t, so never mind. I don’t see why people get so fussed over boys kissing boys. What does it matter anyway? If I want to kiss Baz - and I do - I should be allowed to.

I’m allowed to do whatever I want in our room. The anathema stops you from hurting each other, and me and Baz are … well, we’re doing the opposite.

Kissing Baz makes me feel so alive. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever felt, and I never want it to end. I pause for breath, and Baz kisses my cheek. His lips are so soft. He’s cold, but it doesn’t bother me at all. He kisses the freckle on my neck and I melt into him, wrapping my arms around him in an embrace that I never want to let go of.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first snowbaz i've ever written so forgive me if it's a little dull :/ please leave comments & kudos <3


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